Belonging and Purpose
by Coriandra
Summary: Still grieving a short time after his parents' death, Frodo learns during a serious illness that he's still loved and has things to live for. Reposted
1. Chapter 1

**Rating: **PG or K+  
**Disclaimer: **The characters aren't mine other than Dahlia Greenhill (OC). No money's being made, no copyright infringement is intended. The symptoms and treatments describe are all strictly for entertainment and should not be considered medical information or advice.

**A/N: **This is an AU. Frodo was adopted by Bilbo when he was twenty- one, but for the story, I made it just after his parents' death at age twelve.

It was about eleven o'clock at Bag End. The sun was shining brightly in the cloudless sky, some songbirds were chirping and the smell of fresh cut grass lingered in the air. All in all, it was a beautiful day. Frodo Baggins didn't seem to notice, however. He merely collected the mail and hurried in doors. The warm, nutty smell of the freshly polished furniture greeted him in the hall and when he got to the brightly lit kitchen, he could smell some muffins baking in wood stove. He took no notice of these pleasant things, however. His only thought was going to his room.

"There's some mail for you, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo called, placing some letters on the kitchen table.

"Thank you, Frodo," said Bilbo. "Are you ready for elevensies?" He gestured towards the large table laid with hot bread, mushrooms, different types of spreads and juices.

Frodo hesitated, then asked "Uncle Bilbo, would you mind if I didn't have elevensies today?"

"Is everything alright, Frodo?" asked Bilbo, surprised. "Is there anything you'd rather have? You haven't been here very long, so I don't know much the kind of food you like."

"Everything looks delicious, really Uncle Bilbo," Frodo insisted. "It's just that it's so hot outside. I don't feel much like eating on days like this."

Bilbo was becoming concerned about Frodo. He hadn't eaten anything for second breakfast either. Come to think of it, had he even had his first breakfast that morning? He noticed too that his nephew had been unusually withdrawn for the last three days. Was it the stress of his parents' death a month ago? Frodo seemed to be coping fairly well, but Bilbo knew that children often grieve intermittently. Maybe this was one of his down times. Or maybe he was sick. He did have some high colouring in his face.

"Could you please excuse me, uncle? I'm really tired and if you don't mind, I'd like to go lay down." Having said that, Frodo disappeared into his room and shut the door without waiting for an answer.

Now Bilbo was really concerned. This was completely unlike Frodo. His instincts told him that he needed to have an immediate talk with the boy.

"Frodo, are you sure you're all right?" he asked as he knocked on the bedroom door. It was a meaningless question because he knew only too well that Frodo wasn't.

Getting no answer, he opened the door, to his surprise, he saw Frodo in bed shivering. His teeth were chattering loudly, even though he was covered with heavy blankets and his window was tightly closed. Greatly alarmed, Bilbo move closer and could see that Frodo was fully clothed under those blankets.

"Oh hello, Uncle Bilbo," he said, shifting uncomfortably and pulling the blankets almost up to his neck. Seeing his uncle's look, he added quickly, "Don't worry, I'm alright," but that didn't sound very convincing. "I just got a little too much sun today, as you see, and I have a bit of a headache."

"This isn't a sunburn, Frodo, you have a rash," Bilbo said, putting his hand on Frodo's forehead. "You have a fever, too. Does your throat hurt?" Frodo nodded, wondering how Bilbo knew.

"How long have you been feeling like this?" Bilbo continued.

"It started about three days ago," Frodo replied, clearly uneasy with this questioning, "but it got a little bit worse today." His eyes looked down at his bright red and blue quilt when he said that because it was a major understatement.

"Get undressed and stay in bed," Bilbo instructed him, handing him a warm nightshirt from the dresser. "I'll make you some Athelas tea which should help a bit."

Frodo knew there was no point in arguing with Bilbo. Bagginses were notoriously stubborn. Usually Frodo could give him a good run for his money, but he didn't have the strength or the desire to try that today. He just changed into the nightshirt as fast as he could so he could get back under the blankets.

"It's really nothing, uncle," Frodo protested, when Bilbo came back with his tea "I'll be up and around by tonight, won't I?" his voice rose slightly in pitch. "I just need to sleep that's all, isn't it?"

Bilbo, having a slight knowledge of medicine shook his head. "I don't think it's that simple, Frodo," he replied gravely, opening the window that overlooked the garden. "I think you're going to need some help. Hamfast," he called to his gardener.

"Yes, Mr. Bilbo," came a voice from the window.

"I'm afraid young Frodo came down with something. Could you watch over him until I get back with a healer?"

"Of course, Mr. Bilbo." said Hamfast Gamgee as he came over and looked through the window, seeming concerned.

"Thank you, that would be much appreciated." Bilbo told his gardener. Then he went over to Frodo's bed again and gently brushed some hair out of his eyes. "I won't be gone long, my boy," Bilbo told him. "I'll leave another cup of tea by your bed. Try to rest, and drink as much of it as you can. That might be a bit difficult, but I'm sure it will help."

To his relief, Frodo took a few sips of the tea. Swallowing it did seem to hurt his throat, but his shivering became less noticeable. The scent of Athelas was now drifting through the room and that seemed to relax him, too. Frodo took another sip and closed his eyes. He was asleep in a few minutes. Bilbo looked down at him for a minute, and then kissed his cheek lightly. After bringing in another cup of Athelas tea, he quickly went on his way, hoping Frodo's condition wasn't what he suspected.

T


	2. Chapter 2

Frodo wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, but he knew it must have been quite some time. Looking at the sky outside his window, he guessed it was late that afternoon. He threw off some of his blankets, now feeling uncomfortably warm. He was throat was still hurting. Feeling very thirsty, Frodo wondered if he should drink the tea that was still by his bed. The tea would certainly quench his thirst, especially now that it was cold, but swallowing had hurt his throat earlier and he felt he might be sick if there was anything in his stomach. Finally, his thirst won out and he decided to take a chance with the tea. As he reached for the cup, he noticed that his door had been left open. Bilbo was outside his room, talking to a female hobbit that Frodo didn't know although he thought he'd seen her around Hobbiton.

"It's good that you made Athelas tea for Frodo," she was saying. "The plant has been known to have healing abilities and the scent brings on a feeling of well being which is just as important as medicine. Did you look in his mouth and at his throat?"

"No, I didn't think of it," Bilbo admitted, "but he did say that his throat hurt and it seemed hard for him to swallow." There was an uncomfortable silence for the next minute."So, what do you think, Dahlia?" he asked at last, bracing himself for the worst because he knew she would tell him exactly what she thought. With most healers it was like pulling teeth to get a straight answer out of them when the condition was serious, but Dahlia Greenhill believed in being honest and direct with her patients and their families. This made her in demand just as much as her healing skills.

"Of course I'll have to check him to confirm this," Dahlia replied, "but from what you've told me, I'm afraid Frodo has scarlet fever."

"I thought it might be that," said Bilbo, biting his lip. "Shall I wake him for you?"

"No, let him sleep a bit longer," she advised. "That's an important part of the healing process too, and we can use the time to prepare his medicine."

As they went into the kitchen, Frodo got out of bed, against his better judgment but quickly discovered he didn't have the strength to walk very far. Instead, he crawled on his hands and knees over behind the open door so he could better hear what they were saying. He felt a little guilty for listening to a conversation not meant for his ears, but since the conservation was about him, he also felt he had a right know what was being said. His curiosity would have eventually gotten the best of him anyway. He leaned against the wall behind the door for support in his weakened condition. The wall felt cool and soothing next to his hot cheek and the scent of the herbal medicines drifted from the kitchen into his room. They had an earthy  
smell, which he found rather pleasant, and from the position, Frodo could hear the talking and the activity perfectly. He quickly regretted his eavesdropping, however.

"I understand that this is serious," Bilbo told the healer, "if he does have scarlet fever, what's the worst thing that could happen?"

"Frodo could develop complications in the next one to five weeks", Dahlia explained, "and they could be a number of things, the most serious being aortic thinning"  
_  
Aortic thinning? What on Middle Earth does that meaning?_ Frodo wondered.

"I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with that term," Bilbo said, as if on cue.

"Aortic thinning is a narrowing and thickening of the heart's inner valves which interferes with the blood from flowing into the lower left part. A possible result of that could cause a swelling of the inside of the heart and valves which usually results in its failing."

Frodo of course, didn't understand all this being a child, but he had zeroed in on the word _heart _so he could tell at once that his condition was serious. Was he going to die? Would they tell him if he was going die? It was a good thing he was already on the floor or he would have collapsed. It become very quiet in the kitchen.

"Bilbo, are you all right?" Dahlia asked sounding genuinely concerned.

"Yes, Dahlia, I'm all right," he insisted, taking a deep breath.

"Please go on. I need to know all the facts so I can prepare myself for the worst."

"I don't think anyone can be really prepared, Bilbo," she told him, "but I'll go on if you're sure you want me  
too."

"Please do so," Bilbo requested.

"Very well," Dahlia continued more softly, but Frodo could still hear every word. His senses were heightened in this shocked state.

"Another risk is a build up of fluid in the lungs. It can happen because the pressure from the blood in the upper left part builds up causing the blood to flow back into the lungs"

"When that happens impossible or at least difficult to breathe properly?"

"That's right. If Frodo were to develop that, all I could do was give him a strong sedative to try make it easier for him," she told Bilbo gently.

Fluid in the lungs? Frodo knew what that meant only too well. He was going to drown, just like his parents had, but it was going to happen right in his own bed. The thought of this was too horrible for him to take. blacked out. He thought heard someone shout his name, but the next second he was completely unconscious.


	3. Chapter 3

Frodo sat up in bed terrified. Did he just hear what he thought he did? Maybe it was just a horrible dream. Bilbo was sitting next to him on the bed, looking almost as panic strickened as Frodo felt. Then he saw Dahlia Greenhill, who was cursing herself for being so thoughtless. So it was true. He had come down a terrible disease that could take his life. Well, at least his wasn't alone. Bilbo held him close and rocked him as he cried and trembled.

Dahlia placed a blue lantern by his bed, into which she had sprinkled a few drops of lavender oil then sat over in the corner waiting for Frodo to calm down as she reflected on what had happened. The time she spent studying Elvish medicine and reading human medical textbooks had served her well. The knowledge she gained had been critical on many occasions, but it was horrifying to think it had almost come at the expense of the compassion that all healers needed.

Frodo held tight to Bilbo, with his eyes shut against Bilbo's shoulder. He opened them every few minutes and looked over at the corner, hoping his healer would disappear. Seeing her sent him into a panic each time. He couldn't ask her to leave because she was an adult and Bilbo's guest, but as long as that hobbit was there he found it impossible to deny his condition, which he wanted to do more than anything. This went on for about half an hour. Finally Dahlia got up and came over to his bed. As much as she hated to upset Frodo again, she had to examine him to confirm the diagnosis and get him started on the medicine. Frodo's eyes became as wide as saucers when she opened her medical bag. Bilbo held him still, but was at a loss at to how calm him. Nothing from his book learning or life experience could have prepared him for a situation like this and for the first time, he felt completely inadequate. Fortunately, Dahlia had seen this before and knew how to handle it.

"Frodo, listen to me," she said firmly, but without raising her voice. "I know you're not happy about this, and I don't blame you. It's all right to cry, or even scream if that doesn't hurt your throat too much, but you must keep still, or this is going to take longer than it has to."

"All right, but please don't hurt me!" Frodo begged, holding Bilbo's hand as tightly as he could.

"Frodo," Dahlia said gently. "Would Bilbo let anyone harm you?" This question surprised Frodo. Of course Bilbo wouldn't let anyone harm him. This was something he hadn't considered before. He shook his head slightly in response to the question, and even managed a bit, although he moved closer to Bilbo, as if to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

As Frodo began to relax slightly, Dahlia took out and small Elven lamp. "This is just to look at your throat, Frodo," she explained. "Now open your mouth for me please." Frodo complied and she studied his throat carefully then gently unbuttoned his nightshirt. "All I'm going to do now," she said when she had finished, "is feel around your neck to check for swelling and have a look at your rash. I'd like to do a more through examination, but that can wait until you feel more comfortable."

Frodo nodded, feeling he could handle that as long as Bilbo was with him. "I have it, don't I?" he asked when Dahlia was finished.

"Yes, Frodo, I'm afraid so," Dahlia confirmed gravely.

"Am I going to die?" he asked, with surprising little emotion. His initial shock had worn off and was slowly being replaced with a sense of depression.  
"We're going to go everything we can to prevent that," she assured him.

"Don't you worry, Frodo," Bilbo told him, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Miss Greenhill is the best healer is the Shire. She knows more than even most of the doctors."

"I can't do it all alone," she responded. "Frodo, you have to make a firm decision to get well and keep yourself motivated to that end. And Bilbo, Frodo's going to need all the support and encouragement you can give him."

"He'll get it!" Bilbo replied without a minute's hesitation.  
"Good," said Dahlia, smiling encouragingly for the first time. "Now, Frodo, I have some medicine for you to take."

"All right," said Frodo, wanting to please the adults as he always had. Inside, however he had a very uncomfortable feeling that he couldn't explain, but he was sure it nothing to do with his sickness.


	4. Chapter 4

Frodo looked at the cup in Dahlia's hand. To his relief, it was only a quarter full. His eyes widen slightly when he took his first sip. Medicine was seldom appetizing, but this didn't taste as unpleasant as some of them. He would have been curious about it if he were feeling better. Swallowing wasn't any easier, but Frodo knew that he had to do it. He didn't want to be difficult and make things stressful for Bilbo. After all, of all his relatives Uncle Bilbo had always been the nicest to him, with the exception of his parents, of course.

Frodo's blue eyes filled with tears when thought about Drogo and Primula. He blinked wildly, but he could keep them from falling. Bilbo held Frodo close any dried his eyes, trying hard not to break down himself.

"Frodo, are you in pain?" Dahlia asked him gently.

Frodo nodded. It was true, he throat was as painful as ever, and he didn't want to talk about the main reason he was crying.

"Maybe a sponge bath with Athelas water would help him feel better?" Bilbo asked the healer.

"That's an excellent idea," she told him, "and while you do that, I'll get something for the pain."

Bilbo crushed some Athelas leaves and poured some warm water into a large bowl. Dahlia took a small bottle from her medical bag and filled a dropper with dark, amber coloured liquid. Touching his shoulder, she glanced at the clock on Frodo bookcase. Frodo opened his mouth without question and allowed her to give him ten drops of the solution. It wasn't his place to question his healer; he knew that.

"Willow tincture?" Bilbo asked.

" Willow and poplar bark with rosemary leaves, wintergreen, wood botony and licorice," was the reply. "How are feeling now, Frodo?"

"Better, Miss Greenhill, thank you," Frodo told her, which was true. His throat still hurt, but the strong medicine made him less conscience of the pain and the soothing scent of the Athelas made him feel calmer.

"I'm glad of that," she told him, smiling gently. "You should feel even better when the medicine fully takes effect, and it should last for at least three hours, possibly more."

"It sounds very effective," Bilbo commented. "That's good to know."

"Yes, it's very effective, but Frodo," she looked at him attentively. "We don't know what you're feeling, so you have to tell us if you're in pain or uncomfortable in any way."

Frodo nodded. He didn't have the strength to say very much, but he appreciated the fact that Dahlia would talk to him directly instead of merely discussing him with Bilbo, as was the practice with most healers.

"All right then, I'll leave you to have your bath, but I'll be back in about half an hour with some more medicine for you. Bilbo, I'll be out in the kitchen if you need me."

Frodo closed his eyes and relaxed as Bilbo bathed him and helped him into a clean nightshirt. When he finished Dahlia came back in and gave Frodo twenty drops of another tincture. Frodo would find out later what it was. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep. As he closed his eyes again, he felt a sense of peace, but not real happiness. He knew he would never be fully happy again, nor should he want to.


	5. Chapter 5

"Frodo?" a now familiar voice said softly. "I'm giving you another dose of the tincture."

Frodo sighed and opened his mouth obediently. It seemed that he had just shut his eyes, and then he was being awaken again. He watched as Dahlia took the dark brown bottle and filled its dropper. Then he felt Bilbo lift his head slightly. At least he didn't have to sit up and hold a cup, not at this time anyway.

"What's in this tincture?" Bilbo wanted to know. Frodo's eyes snapped open when he heard the question. He never could resist the opportunity to learn something new, even when he was sick. Bilbo and Dahlia both noticed that and smiled at him.

"It's a combination of Echinacea and poke root, borage, chaparral and goldenseal leaves and cayenne powder," Dahlia explained, "and it's distilled with brandy."

"And how often will he have to take it?" Bilbo continued.

"Because of the seriousness of this condition, it's going to have to be every half hour for the next twenty four hours," Dahlia told him, almost apologetically.

"Then he's not going to get much sleep," Bilbo commented, sounding concerned.

"Unfortunately not, but this is the only effective treatment I know for scarlet fever.'

Bilbo placed Frodo's head back on the pillow and put a warm flannel towel on his neck, which was very soothing for his swollen glands. Frodo didn't have the strength to say thank you so he smiled weakly, hoping Bilbo would understand. Bilbo smiled back and stroked Frodo's hair gently.

"Frodo, I'd like to talk to Miss Greenhill over by the fire," he said, when he was sure Frodo was comfortable. "Is that all right with you?" Frodo nodded and smiled again.

The scent of Athelas still hung in the room, along with the slow burning logs in the fireplace. Frodo settled into his soft feather pillow and watched the flames cast their amber lights on the walls and ceiling while he listened to snatches of the conservation between the two adults. All these things reminded him of happier times with his family.

"Well, I should be able to handle things now, Dahlia," Bilbo concluded. "I guess you'll be going soon?"

"If you don't mind, Bilbo, I'd like to stay until tomorrow afternoon. It's certainly no reflection on the way you've handled things so far, but these next twenty-four hours are going to be critical. I've arranged for another healer to cover for me if there's an emergency."

"Are you sure that won't be too much for you, Dahlia?" Bilbo asked. "You must have other patients and responsibilities to attend to?"

"I can handle it. I've done this before," she assured him. "Healers don't expect predictable working hours all the time."

Frodo got quite a surprised when he heard that. He knew it was probably true; healing wasn't like a regular job with fixed hours. Still, it seemed like quite a sacrifice to make for a relative stranger, especially him. He got an even bigger surprise from what he heard next.

"Right now, Bilbo, I'm a bit concerned about you," Dahlia told him. "Do you have family members or friends who could help you and give you support? You're doing very well with Frodo, but taking care of a sick family member is always emotionally draining. It's especially so with a child that you love."

Had Frodo heard right, that Bilbo loved him? They had always gotten along, of course. Some of Frodo's best memories were of visiting Bilbo with his parents, but did Bilbo really love him? If so, Frodo realized, he had to get well. It would be unfair to Bilbo if he didn't, especially after so soon after the death of Drogo and Primula whom Bilbo had always been so close to. As Frodo considered this, he again felt his eyes fill with tears, and he was glad the room was getting darker. He didn't want the adults to see his face.


	6. Chapter 6

Frodo was almost asleep again when he heard footsteps in his room and opened his eyes to see what was happening. Most of the light came from the fireplace but a small oil lamp was burning dimly beside his healer. As his eyes adjusted to diminished lighting, he saw Dahlia taking some small objects from her bag. He didn't see Bilbo anywhere, but he wasn't unduly alarmed; he was beginning to trust his healer. Frodo watched with interest as she lit some cone shaped objects and placed them in brass holders. Tiny flames flickered for a second, and then were extinguished causing smoke to rise, which smelled like expensive perfume. Dahlia continued to light these objects and place them in different areas of the room. Then she noticed Frodo was awake and had been watching.

"Hello, Frodo," she said, coming over to sit next to his bed. "How are you feeling?"

Frodo wasn't sure how to answer this question. His wasn't in pain because the willow and poplar tincture was still working. And, while his mind wasn't completely focused, he still knew where he was and what was happening around him. What could he say?

After thinking for a minute, he replied, "Thirsty." It was true; he had forgotten how thirsty he was when he first woke up, almost two hours ago.

"Oh yes," Dahlia adjusted his pillows so he could sit up comfortably and poured him a drink from a pitcher by his bed. "You've got quite a fever, so we're going to keep this by your bed."

Seeing his eyes glance unconsciously at the doorway, she smiled and continued, "Don't worry, Bilbo didn't go very far. He's just putting some incense in the hall and in the kitchen."

"Is that what that is?" Frodo asked, "I was wondering; I never saw it before."

"Frankincense and pine," Dahlia explained, "Pretty nice, isn't it?" Frodo nodded and smiled. "It's practical purpose, though," she continued, "is to prevent this disease from spreading outside Bag End and keep anyone who comes here from catching it."

"Does it really work?" Frodo asked, becoming intrigued.

"Oh yes, I'm not sure how it works, but it's very effective. Now, it's almost time for your tincture. Would you like me to mix it in your drink?"

Frodo nodded, becoming depressed all of a sudden. It wasn't that he particularly minded the medicine itself, but it reminded him of his miserable situation. His parents were gone and he had a serious disease that he was duty bound to recover from even though most of his energy was gone. He tried not to let his feelings show, but he apparently wasn't successful.

"Frodo?" Dahlia asked, "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"I'm all right, Miss Greenhill," he told her calmly.

"Are you sure?" Dahlia pressed him gently as she handed him the glass. "I'm concerned about you as an individual, not just your illness."

Frodo looked at his healer and considered this. She cared about him; he could see that. Maybe he should tell her what was bothering him? No, she had committed herself to staying with him all night. He couldn't ask for more than that, he decided. And what would taking accomplish, anyway? Obviously not bring his parents back. More likely he would just break down and cry and he certainly didn't want that.

"I just needed a drink," Frodo stated as he sipped his drink gratefully. "I really needed a drink when I woke, but with all excitement I forgot I was thirsty." Indeed, he did feel better when the cold water quenched his thirst. The addition of an Athelas leaf, small amount of salt and tincture made it taste rather interesting, too.

"All right, Frodo, but I'm always available if you change your mind," Dahlia assured him. Her concerned appearance remained unchanged.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" asked Bilbo, who had just come in.

"Oh no, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo said, trying to sound causal. "I was just telling Miss Greenhill that I was thirsty, but I feel much better now that I've had a drink."

"Your timing was good, Bilbo," Dahlia confirmed, brightening her lamp. "I think Frodo's going to need your support in a minute. "I'd like to examine you now that you're awake," she told Frodo. "Do you feel up to that?"

Frodo nodded, but he had cringed slightly and looked uncomfortable. Bilbo smiled reassuringly and put his arm around the boy's shoulder as he sat next to him. Frodo's anxiety lessened slightly as he leaned against his uncle.

"What do you see, Miss Greenhill?" Frodo wanted to know when she had looked at his throat.

"Your throat is still infected, Frodo," she told him, "and it probably will be for a while yet, but we'll keep the pain under control.

"I'd like a mirror, if you don't mind," Frodo requested quietly, but determinedly. "I'd like to see what it looks like myself."

"Are sure, Frodo?" Dahlia asked, surprised. "It isn't pleasant."

"I'm sure it isn't, but I still want to know," Frodo was not going to be put off. He was sure he would regret it, just as he regretting his eavesdropping that afternoon, but nothing was worse than not knowing.

Dahlia produced a mirror, after Bilbo had nodded his permission and Frodo gasped at what he saw. Before allowing him to look, she told him exactly what he would see to lessen to the shock, but nothing could have totally prepared him for that. His throat was bright red with pale yellow spots of exudate on his tonsils. No wonder he had been in pain! Could he really recover from this? Was it even worth it? Yes, he was going to have to try. He didn't want to be selfish, even though he didn't think he had much to look forward to if and when he did recover.


	7. Chapter 7

"Frodo, are you all right?" Bilbo asked, alarmed by the expression on his nephew's face.

"Hmm? Oh yes I'm all right," Frodo replied, beginning to recover from his shock. Frodo was very resilient, even by hobbit standards and the supportive environment he was in added to that. "So, it's the disease, scarlet fever that's making my throat like this?"

"No, it's the other way around," Dahlia explained. "The infection in your throat caused you to develop scarlet fever. A strep throat can have serious complications, especially if it isn't treated effectively."

"And you're treating it now?" Frodo continued.

"Yes, this is tincture is very effective for scarlet fever and will help your throat," she told him "Oh, and there's one good thing about scarlet fever, only one of course. When you get over it, you'll never have to worry about catching it again."

_When_ he got it over it? Frodo thought about this for a moment. Apparently his healer expected him to recover. That must have meant he was capable of it. Did he really want to, he wondered. If he didn't have a responsibility to get well, was it a choice he would make for himself?

"Now I need you to take off your nightshirt," Dahlia told him gently, "but you can stay under the sheet and I'll just pull it back a bit when I need to." She smiled sympathically, noticing him cringe. Frodo didn't ask if he had to, he knew he did and he also knew it probably wouldn't hurt. He was glad, however, that he had his rash. It would make his blushing less noticeable.

"Thank you, Frodo. You can put it back on now," she said, after she had examined him and given him another dose of the tincture. Of course Frodo did, as fast as he could. Bilbo smiled and ruffled Frodo's hair affection as he pulled the blankets back over him.

"Your breathing and your heart sound good," the healer continued, "We'll have to watch them closely for a while yet, but what I'm most concerned about now is your temperature. Please have another glass of water."

"I'm not very thirsty, but thank you," Frodo replied. That was true, the room seemed to be spinning and he was feeling nauseated and exhausted. His head was hurting too and he just wanted to lie still.

"You may not feel thirsty," Dahlia told him, "but it's very important that you drink a lot of water. A fever can cause dehydration."

"Can cause what?" Frodo wanted to know, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"It can make your body lose to much water," Dahlia explained, "and if that were to happen, you'll get a lot sicker, and we certainly can't risk that now."

"Oh, then I better drink more." Frodo's voice lacked certainty, however. He wanted to know more, but didn't feel up to asking at that time. Wanting to do the right thing, he took the glass of water and sipped very slowly.

"How are feeling now?" Bilbo asked when he had finished.

"Better, thank you." Frodo _was_ feeling better, much to his surprise, "I think the water helped."

"That's good, and are you warm enough, or too warm?" Bilbo continued.

"I'm all right," Frodo assured him weakly, "and the medicine is still working on my throat. It doesn't hurt any more."

Dahlia, who had spent almost five minutes discreetly looking through her bag, then excused herself and went into the kitchen, becoming increasingly concerned. Bilbo and Frodo, meanwhile were watching the sun setting over the garden. Even though the window wasn't facing due west and the view was somewhat limited from Frodo's bed, they could see the deep pink and violet sky darkening into blue. This was a sight Frodo never got tired of, no matter how often he saw it. The smell of pine from the burned incense still lingered in the air, reminding him of his walks through the woods, sometimes with his family and sometimes by himself. That was another thing he never got tired of.

"Another drink, lad?" Bilbo offered, pointing to the picture of ice water. "I see it's almost time for your medicine, so I can mix it the water if you like."

"I'll just have half a glass thank you," Frodo sighed, looking dejectly at his patchwork quilt. Would this routine ever end?

"I know plain water with a bit of salt and an athelas leaf isn't very appealing," Bilbo said apologetically. "And this medicine can't be very appetizing either, but when you're feeling better I'll make you more interesting drinks. Apple and cranberry cider for instance, and blackberry cordial and blueberry tea, among other things."

"That sounds delicious." Frodo smiled as he sipped the cold water. Maybe he had something to look forward to after all.

"It _will_ be delicious," Bilbo promised. "When I was traveling with Gandalf and the dwarves, there were times when I was pretty uncomfortable, miserable even. What kept me going though, was thinking about my favourite foods, like roast chicken with dry fruit stuffing, and whipped potatoes with gravy and cherry cobbler with whipped cream…"

"Now you're making me hungry!" Frodo laughed.

"Really? That's good, I'd like to see you eat a bit, if you can."

"Bilbo, can I talk to you for a few minutes?" Dahlia called from the doorway. Bilbo could tell this was important even before they reached the kitchen.

"Do you have any tincture of catnip, willow and peppermint?" Dahlia asked, after making sure this time that Frodo wasn't listening.

"Tincture? No, I'm afraid not," said Bilbo, shaking his head regretfully. "I don't even have catnip or willow tea."

"None?" Dahlia's voice sound incredulous. "None whatsoever?"

"Those herbs are used medicinally," Bilbo reminded her. "I almost never need medicine and Frodo's only been here a few days, so I didn't think to get any for him. Don't you carry it in your bag?"

"Of course, but I just realized, I'm out of it." The healer spoke calmly, but Bilbo could see the concern in her eyes. "I can't believe I forgot to check before we came here. I remembered to bring everything else."

" You have more at your house, don't you?" Bilbo asked, wondering how anxious he should be about this. "Hamfast Gamgee should be coming over tomorrow. I'll ask him to get some for you. What's it for, by the way?"

"It's to lower a fever. The tincture I gave Frodo for the pain has some willow in it which will help a bit, but the combination I mentioned is much more effective."

"Well until we have it, we can Frodo keep cool with sponge baths and make sure he drinks a lot," Bilbo reasoned, but he didn't like the direction this discussion was taking. "I'm out of Athelas leaves, unfortunately, but Frodo still has two cups of the tea that he didn't drink."

"I hope that's going to be enough," Dahlia replied gravely. "Bilbo, don't be too alarmed but…."

"But what?" Bilbo demanded, panic making his voice sharp.

"I expect Frodo's temperature to get higher tomorrow, and that could cause a seizure."


	8. Chapter 8

"A seizure? Frodo's going to have a seizure?" Bilbo's eyes become as large as his favourite stewing pot and without another word, he grabbed dashed over to the coat rack and grabbed his jacket.

"I didn't say that, Bilbo, only that it was a possibility. And where are you going?" Dahlia gasped.

"I'm going to get Frodo's medicine myself!" He dashed down the hallway towards his door.

"No, Bilbo," Dahlia told him firmly, "it's dark and you've been there once. You won't help Frodo if you get lost."

Bilbo froze and stood silently for a minute. "You're right, Dahlia," he said at last. "I had a hard enough time finding your house in the day light. I don't know what I was thinking of." He leaned against the wall and buried his head in his arm. "No, unfortunately, that's not true; I _do _know what I was thinking of."

Frodo fortunately didn't hear this conservation. He was still looking out his window as he reflected on all that had happened since late that morning. A full moon began to rise. Its pale orange colour was almost identical to the colour of Bilbo's favourite roses. That was another thing he never he never got tired of, the new moon and the first evening stars. He tried to sit up so he could see more, but room seemed to spin and he quickly fell back down, feeling sick to his stomach.

This was a miserable disease and no mistake! He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemies if he had any, but at least was in his bed being taken care of. His caregivers were going be awake all night attending to him, at least Dahlia Greenhill was. That was her job as his healer, Frodo reminded himself. It couldn't have been easy, but it was her choice. And what about Bilbo? Was he going to stay up all night too?

_He could go to bed and let Miss Greenhill take care of me,_ Frodo thought. _In fact he should, but it's so good to know he's close to me. And if he were the one sick with this, I know I'd want to stay up with him._

Frodo thought about how supportive Bilbo had been that day. Being diagnosed with scarlet fever was the most terrible experience of his young life, next to the death of his parents. If he were still at Brandy Hall where he stayed for a few weeks after the boating accident they would probably just be noticing now that he was sick. Once they realized that, they would of course have made him comfortable and seen that his illness was properly treated. No one however, would have stayed by his bed and given him their undivided attention as Bilbo had done. They didn't even do that for him when his parents died. For the first time in his life, Frodo had felt totally alone and unsupported. It was nobody's fault; he knew that. Brandy Hall was a regular rabbit warren. People were coming and going all day, and of course everyone had their own grief to cope with. A great burden was lifted from his shoulders when he came to Bag End. With his own room, he could have the privacy to work through his strong emotions and yet, Bilbo was always there to give him the support he needed. Frodo knew he was blessed under the circumstances. It wouldn't, of course be right for him to happy any more. Well, maybe just a little bit, at least until he recovered.

Out in the kitchen Bilbo was coping with some strong emotions of his own. His eyes were stinging and he had to take several deep breaths before compose himself enough to talk.

"About sixty years ago," Bilbo said at last, "Drogo, his father got very sick the measles and he had a seizure, a really bad one. He was two or three years younger than Frodo is now. I remember very clearly what that was like." Bilbo shuddered as he thought about this. The sight of his cousin thrashing uncontrollably on the floor had been almost as horrible as the sight of his lifeless body being pulled from the River.

"Children who have seizures are usually younger than Frodo, but not always," Dahlia told him. "And if his father had a seizure, Frodo's definitely at risk for one. But Bilbo, try not to worry," the healer laid her hand on his shoulder and tried to sound reassuring. "Even if Frodo does have a seizure it's not likely to do any permanent damage."

Bilbo nodded; he had read that often in the textbooks he was so fond of. His theoretical knowledge, however, didn't give him very much comfort in this situation.

"Hello Frodo." Frodo, who was still looking out his window in deep thought turned quickly to see Dahlia sitting by his bed.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you; and I didn't mean to be so long in the kitchen either. Were you all right while we were out there?"

"Oh yes. I was just fine," Frodo assured her. "I was just watching the moon rise from my window. I enjoyed it; it was beautiful."

"Well I'm glad to hear that, and you _do_ look a bit better," Dahlia smiled and administered another dose of the required tincture. "By the way, Bilbo's lighting a fire in the bathing room. We're going to give you bath when he has the water heated."

"Another sponge bath?" Frodo asked.

"No, a tub bath. And I even made some bath oil for you, lemon and pine. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Frodo smiled and gave her a nod. It _did _sound nice, but he was beginning to sense that something wasn't quite right.

"Is anything wrong, Miss Greenhill?" he asked as she checked his temperature again. Her hand seemed to stay on his forehead a bit longer than it normally did.

"As I mentioned, Frodo, I'm a bit concerned about the fever. It's not necessarily anything to worry about, but we need to work on bringing it down. I'd like you to drink the athelas tea Bilbo made for you earlier today."

Frodo wasn't sure what the implications of that were, but he tried not to worry about it as he drank the tea obediently and wondered what could be coming.

Out in the bathing room, Bilbo was trying to prepare himself for what he _knew_ was coming. He fell to his knees praying strength.


	9. Chapter 9

Bilbo set two large pots of water in the fireplace, enough for about half hour of bath time, he reasoned. Having done that and partially filling the tub, he began to set the pine and frankincense cones around the room, glancing at the clock as he did so. It was now 8:30, four hours since Dahlia had diagnosed Frodo with scarlet fever. These had been, without question the worse four hours of Bilbo's life and things were going to get worst before they got better, if they ever did. It would be eleven and half hours before Hamfast Gamgee arrived and could get the medicine to lower Frodo's fever and another nineteen and a half hours before Frodo would get any uninterrupted sleep. And what would happen in the intervals between these times? Frodo could very well have a seizure. Bilbo didn't even want to think about that. He leaned against the wall and let himself sink to the floor, trying hard not to give in to despair.

"Miss Greenhill?" Frodo asked after dutifully taking his half hourly tincture dose, "is Uncle Bilbo still in the bathing room?"

"Probably. It takes a while to heat large amounts of water, but I'm sure he'll be in as soon as soon as he can. While we're waiting, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself if, you feel up to it? I've been taking care of you since this afternoon, but we've never had a real conversation."

Frodo looked shocked for a minute, then uncomfortable. Why would she want to have conservation with him? No one had ever showed any real interest in him before, other than Uncle Bilbo and his parents. And what could he say anyway?

"Ah… well…. I…", Frodo stammered at last, "where do you want me to start?"

Seeing Frodo's confused expression Dahlia realized she needed to be more specific. "Well, Bilbo tells me you've been here for almost a week. Where were you living before that?"

"At Brandy Hall, out in Buckland. I was visiting there with my parents when they…. had an accident." Frodo looked down, he voice barely audible as he said those last three words. He half expected his healer to interrupt him or abruptly change the subject, as was the practice with most adults. Some of them too, admonished him to put all thoughts of that out of his mind, and look forward from now on. Dahlia did none of those things, however. When Frodo tentatively lifted his eyes, he noticed she still looked concerned and sympathetic so he went on rather reluctantly.

"I had fun there playing with my cousins and swimming and boating. Uncle Bilbo was there too telling us stories of his adventures. Even when they told me about my parents, I didn't feel too bad at first. Their death didn't seem real to me until I saw their bodies being laid in ice and listened to the funeral plans being made."

"It must have been a terrible shock when it finally sunk in for you," Dahlia acknowledged gently.

"Well…I…it's hard to explain," Frodo continued awkwardly. Talking about what happened was one of the hardest things he ever did, but at the same time he noticed that it somehow helped him heal. "I don't understand it either. Sometimes I cried and screamed until I wore myself out, but sometimes I felt I could talk about it like it was something that happened to someone else. No one else seemed to understand either. It was like 'Frodo, you were all right this morning. What's wrong with you now?' Was I wrong to act like that, Miss Greenhill?" His blue eyes widened slightly with anxiety.

"No, Frodo, you weren't wrong," his healer reassured him. "Grief is a very personal thing. There's no right or wrong way to act."

"Really?" Frodo seemed to relax a bit when he heard that. "Actually, I think Uncle Bilbo told me that. And I remember my Aunt Esmeralda telling me too. She and her husband spent time with me whenever they could, but that wasn't often with so many people there. Anyway, they were the ones who decided I should stay at Bag End for a while. When I asked how long I could stay, they said for as long it suited Uncle Bilbo. I guess they wanted to get rid of me because of the problems I was causing by not getting adjusted properly."

Bilbo, who had been just about to enter, froze when he hear those words. Frodo was causing problems? He never caused problems; he was one of the best-behaved children Bilbo had ever seen. And not getting adjusted properly? What could that possibly mean?

"Everyone cried after the accident and at the funeral," Frodo went on, "but when it was all over and they were finally buried, things got back to normal. Everyone seemed to get over their sadness by that time, so I guess I should have too.

"Is that you were told, Frodo?" Dahlia asked, greatly concerned about the impact that would have on Frodo if it were true.

"I wasn't actually told that, but I could tell it was true," Frodo replied sadly. "I had to share a room with my cousins and my crying bothered them, especially at night. It bothered the grown-ups too, even though they didn't say anything to me about it. Anyway, after about a week of that, Aunt Esmeralda and Uncle Saradoc asked me if I wanted to stay with Uncle Bilbo for a while and of course I did. I've always loved it here at Bag End and I don't have to worry too much about disturbing Uncle Bilbo because I have my own room, but I still try to be on my best behaviour of course."

Outside Frodo's door, Bilbo's initial shock at what he heard quickly turned to anger. How could his relatives have been so insensitive, especially Esmeralda? Frodo always seemed to have a good relationship with her. Of course she was busy and had responsibilities, but surely to goodness Frodo was more important! How could she not have realized that? Then a horrifying thought struck him: he was just as guilty. No, more so. He had been at Brandy Hall the whole time. He had no major responsibilities, and yet it never occurred to him to think about what he could do for Frodo. Well no more, he decided. Frodo would have a home at Bag End for as long he wanted and Bilbo would do everything he could to make amends for his inattentiveness.

"Frodo, have you ever told anybody this before?" Dahlia asked gently.

"Well….not exactly," Frodo nervously look at the clock as he spoke. "I told Uncle Bilbo I was very glad to be here and… isn't it time for my medicine again?" he added quickly.

"So it is," Dahlia replied, administering the tincture, "but Frodo, it would be a good idea to tell your relatives what you were feeling, or at least tell Uncle Bilbo." Frodo considered this for a minute.

"That won't be necessary," Bilbo announced as finally entered. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I was already outside the door and didn't want to interrupt. My boy, what can I say? I am so sorry! I didn't do a thing to help you, I was only thinking about myself and my own grief." Visibly upset, he took Frodo's hand in his. "Can you forgive me for overlooking you as I did?"

"Of course I do," Frodo replied in amazement. "but Uncle Bilbo you let me stay here, and that really helped."

"That was Esmeralda's idea, Frodo, not mine. I wouldn't even have thought of it."

"Well, I'm here now," Frodo said, his eyes brightening hopefully. "And I'll be on my best behaviour for as long as I can stay."

"You can stay as long as you want, but we'll talk about it later. Would you like your bath now?" Bilbo tried to sound upbeat as spoke, but he noticed that Frodo's temperature had shown no sign of going down. Dahlia noticed too as she checked it.

Bilbo gave Frodo his bath, sponging him with the water first so as not to shock his body too much. Dahlia meanwhile removed all the objects near his bed, hoping that would prove unnecessary, but not feeling very optimistic.


	10. Chapter 10

"Uncle Bilbo?" Frodo asked as he began to relax in the warm, pine scented water, "Tell me about your adventure again."

"Which part, Frodo?" Bilbo asked, even though he was sure he knew.

"The whole thing, right from the beginning." Frodo's face brightened hopefully, as did Bilbo's when he noticed that. Frodo never got tired of that story, even though he had heard it many times. This was the first time, however that he had asked to hear it since his parents' death. And it was the first time since their accident that Bilbo had seen Frodo's eyes light up as they did.

_A good sign no doubt, _Bilbo thought. _Maybe he's beginning to realize there's still hope for his future. _

As they talked, Bilbo remembered to give Frodo his required medicine, it was pretty automatic by that time. What he forgot to do, however, was keep checking the temperature of the water. "Oh no!" he gasped, trying to conceal his alarm. "I'm so sorry, Frodo, I didn't notice the water had gotten cold!"

"That's all right," Frodo told him. "I was enjoying your story so much, I just noticed that myself."

"Thank you, Frodo, but it's really not all right. We can't let you get cold, because you might start shivering which would raise your temperature and we certainly can't have that." Bilbo shuttered at the thought of what could happen. Fortunately his back was turned as he spoke so Frodo didn't notice.

His healer meanwhile was taking an inventory of her supplies. There was enough of Frodo's regular tincture to get him through the night, which was the important thing. There was only one bottle of the willow tincture for pain, but it was more than enough. She was somewhat reluctant to use it, however. It would keep Frodo's pain under control, and perhaps lower his temperture a bit, but as she told Bilbo, it might not be enough to prevent a seizure and if that happened... Dahlia cringed slightly, these things never got any easier, even for an experience healer like herself.

_Well, there's no use worry about it now_ she reasoned as she continued to lay out her supplies. _And at least I have this I have this which I can use as a last restore. _She picked the small brown bottle and inspected it. Bilbo brought Frodo back in at that moment and tucked him back into bed.

"Hello, Frodo. Did you enjoy your bath?" she asked, discreetly putting the bottle away.

"Yes, I did," Frodo replied happily. His fever had been lowered temporarily and the scented bath water given him a feeling of well being, as it was meant to. "Uncle Bilbo told me all his adventure. He's told me the story often, but I never get tired of it. Have you hear the story, Miss Greenhill?"

"I've heard parts of it, Frodo," Dahlia replied. "Why you tell me the _whole_ story? We have plenty of time." Frodo looked at Bilbo eagerly.

"Go ahead, Frodo. You must know it as well as I do by now," Bilbo told him, sounding amused. Frodo's blue eyes twinkled happily as he began to tell the story, making sure he described everything in detail and pausing only to take his required tincture, which by now had become second nature to him.

"Isn't Uncle Bilbo amazing?" Frodo asked enthusiacally when he finished.

"Yes, Frodo, he certainly is," Dahlia agreed. "And you're pretty amazing too."

"I am?" Frodo asked, looking confused. "What did I do?"

"A lot things," Bilbo pointed out. "Getting on with your life after losing your parents is one of them. And it's amazing how well you've held up since you got sick. That took as much courage as I needed to face the dragon."

"Indeed," Dahlia added giving him his tincture dose, "I don't many adults who could hold as well you are, and for this length of time."

Frodo was very surprised to hear that, but pleased. No one had ever described him as amazing before, and he certainly never thought of himself that way. As he took his medicine, he glanced at the clock over the fireplace and suddenly thought of something. "Uncle Bilbo, is that clock working?" he asked.

"Yes it is, Frodo," Bilbo replied with surprise. "Why do you asked?"

"Well if it is, then it's 10:30," Frodo replied. "This is the latest I was ever awake. I feel like I'm having an adventure of my own, but don't tell anyone," he whispered to his healer with a sly grin on his face.

"I won't say a word," she promised with laugh.

After the next half hour, however, Frodo's mood become noticably less cheerful. His fever was starting to rise again, Dahlia noticed this as she checked his vitals signs and Bilbo could tell from her expression that she was concerned. His throat was beginning to hurt again too. He looked at the bottles on his night table, trying to figure out which one was for pain. He hesitated to ask, because talking made his throat more uncomfortable and required effort.

"Frodo, do need something for your throat?" asked Bilbo who had been watching him closely. Frodo nodded, feeling relieved. Dahlia hesitated for a minute, however, looking uncertain. Finally she took the bottle of willow tincture and gave him a small dose and a glass of cold water.

"How are you feeling now?" she asked after it had time to take effect.

"Better, thank you," Frodo replied, which was true, the pain was gone and he felt a bit more comfortable. Mostly, however, he just sleepy.

"Is there anything else you need?" Bilbo asked. "Maybe a sponge bath? You can have one anytime you want, you know."

"I... just ... want to sleep," Frodo told him, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"All right, Frodo, you can sleep for awhile after you take this tincture," Dahlia told him. "We'll go sit by the fire until it's time for your next dose." Frodo smiled and closed his eyes, but felt his level of consciousness rise suddenly, as it alway did when he expected to sleep. He listened with interest to the conversion taking place.

"How is he, Dahlia?" Bilbo asked, the tension creeping into his voice despite his best efforts to keep it out.

"He's doing remarkably well, all things considered," Dahlia replied and shook her head with amazement. "He looks frail but it's obvious the boy has some strength in him."

"I never doubted that for a second," Bilbo said proudly, "but it isn't over for him yet, is it?"

"No indeed, he has quite a way to go yet," the healer acknowleged. "And how are _you_feeling?"

"Well, I imagine my body is pretty tired but I really haven't noticed it up until now," Bilbo admitted. "Frodo is first and foremost in my mind."

"Perfectly understandable, but you can't help him if you neglect your own health," Dahlia reminded him. "Have you given much thought to what we discussed earlier this evening?"

"Yes I have," he began. "It's almost eleven thirty, that means Frodo needs fourteen more tincture doses. I think when this routine is finished, my cousins at Brandyhall will..."

Brandyhall? Frodo almost panicked when he heard that. Did he to have to go back there?

_NO! I can't go back there! _he wanted to scream. _Please don't make me! _He grabbed the table trying to pull himself up, but in doing so knock the water glass and his bottle of willow tincture to the floor, breaking both of them. His caregivers dashed over to his bed and found him laying there in a complete state of shock.


	11. Chapter 11

"Frodo! My boy speak to me!" Bilbo pleaded, sounding as upset as Frodo had felt less a minute ago. Slowly the small Hobbit turned his head to see what had he done to cause such a commotion. After his initial shock had worn off he was left too exhausted to think clearly, which was for the best because he would have felt awful had he fully comprehended what was happening.

"Uncle Bilbo? Are you still there?" he asked, praying that answer would be yes. Maybe Uncle Bilbo was already packing his bags to get him out as quickly as possible.

"Of course I'm here, lad," Bilbo told him as gently as possible. "I haven't left you and I'm not going to leave you."

"No?" Frodo looked relieved, although a bit surprised when he heard that. "You're not going to leave me?"

"Of course not, Frodo. I'm going to take care of you until you get well." Bilbo gave Frodo's hand a squeeze for emphases as he spoke.

"You're going to take care of me in Brandy Hall?" Frodo asked, his slightly disoriented mind trying to process this information.

"Brandy Hall?" Bilbo looked over at Dahlia in amazement. "You're not going to Brandy Hall or anywhere else until you recover, and then only if you want to." Where had Frodo gotten that idea? he wondered.

"But... I thought... " Frodo stammered, then he decided it didn't really matter what he thought, he wasn't going back to Brandy Hall any time soon. That was the important thing.

"What did you think, Frodo?" Dahlia prompted, realizing immediately that Frodo holding something back.

"Well..." Frodo again began to look uncomfortable. He didn't want to talk about it, worried about the answer he might get, but he quickly realized he didn't have much choice so he might as well get it over with. "When I heard Uncle Bilbo mention Brandy Hall, I thought he was going ask my aunt and uncle to come and take me back there."

"No Frodo, they're going to help me take care of you right here," Bilbo explained, feeling awful now. "And we can decide together what would be best for you after you get well." Frodo smiled when he heard that and began to relax again, to Bilbo's relief.

"They'll be plenty of time to talk about it when you're stronger," Dahlia reminded him, carefully monitoring Frodo's vital signs and visibly relieved when he finally seemed over his shock. He couldn't handle much more of that, especially with what was ahead for him. "Watch your feet, Bilbo, there's broken glass right behind you." Indeed there was. When Frodo grabbed the table, his tightly closed bottle of preventive tincture had fallen onto his bed and was thankfully undamaged, but the willow/poplar bottle had fallen to the floor and shattered. Now there was nothing to lower his temperature even slightly and relieving his pain was going to require something more risky. Dahlia glanced at the clock, wondering how long it would be before she had to resort to that.

Fortunately, the next few hours were fairly uneventful. Bilbo made a pot of stew which he and Dahlia ate next to Frodo's bed after clearing the small table. They encouraged Frodo to eat too, but he didn't want to. He only wanted to sleep, as best he could having to take his medicine every half hour.

"Is this all right, Dahlia?" Bilbo asked, with growing concern. "He hasn't eaten all day, didn't even have second breakfast which is unheard of for him."

"We can't force him to eat," Dahlia pointed out, "and with a high fever, it's normal to not have much of an appetite. It's essential, however that he drinks a lot. And another sponge bath would a good idea too."

Frodo reluctantly submitted to a sponge bath after the adults had finished eating. He really didn't want one but he knew if they wanted him to have one, it must be important. He noticed too, thatfelt a bit better when it was finished. Uncle Bilbo always knew what he needed, Frodo realized gratefully. Most of the time, he even knew what Frodo wanted and was able to keep him entertained with stories and songs about his adventures. Around two-thirty that morning however, Frodo's throat started to bother him again. He said nothing about it, but another half hour went by, and it became progressively worse. By three-thirty it had become too painful to ignore, especially when he had to swallow his medicine.

"May I have some more of the willow tincture?" Frodo asked politely, reluctant to complain just in case Bilbo got second thoughts about sending him back to Brandy Hall. He was especially concerned about that when his caregivers exchanged worried glanced at his request.

"Well... I'm afraid we're out," Dahlia told him, brightening the lamp to check his throat, "but don't worry, we have other things for you. Bilbo, do you have any ice in your storage rooms?" Bilbo nodded anxiously and quickly headed for the door. "Very good, but before you get it, would you mind bringing a warm warm cloth over here? It hurts when you swallow, does it?" Dahlia asked gently, turning her attention back to Frodo and checking the glands in his neck.

Frodo nodded. "I can't move my head well either," he added. As he spoke, Bilbo appeared by his bed with the cloth and a dish of warm water, to Frodo's relief.

"Your neck glands are swollen, but this should help," Dahlia assured him as she laid the cloth across his throat. "And when Bilbo brings the ice, that should make your throat feel better on the inside." It did at first, but when it was time for Frodo's next tincture dose he refused it.

"I can't take anymore," he said miserably. "I'm sorry, Miss Greenhill, but it hurts too much even with the wash cloth and the ice water."

"I'm sorry, Frodo, but you have to force yourself," she insisted. "I know it hurts, but you have to be brave, just for a second until it's down. Would it help if we mixed the tincture with something else?"

"No I'll try to take it by itself, but I don't know if I can." Frodo did manage to swallow it, but it was the hardest thing he had to do all evening and he knew there was no way he could make himself do it again. The two adults seemed to realize this too. He could hear them discussing it by his bed, but for once, he had no interest in following their conservation. All he wanted was for this to over. He wondered at that point if was he going to die after all and at the same time, he wished he could.

He felt a glimmer of hope, however when his caregivers had apparentally made a decision. Dahlia took a small cup from her healers' bag and began to prepare something Frodo hadn't seen before. She took a deep breath, and Frodo didn't know better, he would sworn he saw her hands shake slightly as she mixed the contents. Bilbo removed Frodo's pillow and placed some towels under his neck to prop it up a bit. Frodo felt himself becoming anxious at that moment, but he didn't know why. They had something good for him, no doubt but he couldn't figure out what it was.

Then he saw Dahlia bring the cup. "All right, Frodo, this should help," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "How does that feel?" she asked, rubbing the oils into his neck using downward strokes.

"Better," Frodo replied truthfully, "and I feel I could move my neck now." The oil had a heavy, unusually sweet smell but he found it rather pleasant and its healing properties took effect quickly.

"Very good. Could you take a drink of water now?" Dahlia asked, giving him his tincture when she was finished. Frodo nodded. Indeed, he would have welcomed a glass of water at that time.

"Excellent, I'll get you one with some ice in just a minute," Bilbo offered as he rearranged Frodo's pillow to make him more comfortable. Frodo smiled gratefully, and turned to look out the window at the stars. Bilbo went to get Frodo's ice water and Dahlia was putting her oils aways when the young Hobbit froze, as if panic strickened.

"No!" he gasped. His heart was visibly racing and his gaze was fixed on the window.

"Frodo what's happening to you?" Bilbo cried, grabbing Frodo's shoulders and almost ready to panic himself.

"Keep away!" Frodo shouted, his voice a mixture of fear and defiance.

"Frodo, what are you seeing?" Dahlia asked him. She spoke calmly and firmly, but instead of answering, Frodo lunged forward and screamed, frantically clutching his left shoulder.


	12. Chapter 12

"Where is he?" Frodo screamed, frantically trying to hold his shoulder even when Dahlia forced him to open his hand and unbuttoned his nightshirt to look at it.

"Where is who, Frodo?" Bilbo asked, speaking slowly while trying to get Frodo's attention.

"The king! The pale king!" Frodo cried. "He stabbed my shoulder!"

"Frodo, there is no one here except us," Dahlia pointed out, also speaking slowly and deliberately. "And look, your shoulder is all right."

"It is, really?" Frodo looked at it with amazement. Sure enough, it looked undamaged and he could move his arm normally. It didn't even hurt anymore, now that he thought about it. He looked anxiously around his room, but saw nothing unusual. "It seems to be all right now," he stated visibly confused and still upset, "but I saw them, I know I did!"

"I have no doubt you _think_ you saw them. It's an unfortunate side effect from the fennelseed oil," Dahlia explained gravely. Frodo looked up her becoming curious in spite of his anxiety. "In large amounts it can cause people to see or hear things that aren't there. The small amount I used on you wouldn't have been a problem ordinarily, but you're weak with a fever and you haven't eaten or slept since this afternoon, so your mind is playing tricks on you."

"Oh... " Frodo began to relax slightly. That sort of made sense to him, in an odd way. "So, it was like I was having a nightmare even though I was awake."

"Yes, Frodo, that can happen sometimes," Bilbo told him. "Would you like to talk about what you saw? You don't have to, but it would probably make you feel better if you did."

"Well..., " Frodo began. He felt rather silly now for having that vision, but they both seemed genuinely interested and concerned. "I... thought I saw three dark figures, at least twice as tall has any Hobbit standing over me. They wanted something from me, but I didn't know what. I don't remember too much else now, just that they wanted something and the tallest one, the pale king had a crown on his head. He looked like he'd been a man a one time, but his face was dead white. He reached out for me, but I pulled away and that's when he stabbed me."

"Oh Frodo!" Bilbo cried, his heart almost breaking. "That must have been horrible!" He hugged his nephew like he would never let him go.

"It was," Frodo replied seeming happier as he returned Bilbo's embrace, "but I know now that it wasn't real and that I'm safe here." As Bilbo held Frodo, he got a chance look out the window and noticed the moonlight was making the trees cast long dark shadows over the garden. Realizing that must have been what Frodo's hallucination had hung itself on, he motioned for Dahlia to close the curtains to make sure this didn't happen again.

"Uncle Bilbo?" Frodo asked hopefully. "Is there any more of that stew you and Miss Greenhill had a while ago?"

"Yes, Frodo, there's plenty," Bilbo told him, pleasantly surprised that he asked. "Are you hungry?"

"A little bit," Frodo replied. His eyes twinkled slightly, indicating this was understatement.

"I'll get it for you," Dahlia offered giving him a smile. "And you can eat as much as you want. Increased appetite, by the way is another side effect fennelseed oil. Thankfully, it's a good one in your case."

Eating gave Frodo a sense of well-being for most of the evening. He no longer felt unhappy or afraid, just too tired to keep his eyes open. Bilbo and Dahlia no longer pressed him to stay awake. They just put the medicine in his mouth and tilted his head back slightly, rubbing his throat so he would swallow it. By morning, he had slept for about three hours, off and on which made quite difference. As the sun began to rise on the opposite side of Bag End, Frodo noticed a few rays of pale pink light filtering through his window and asked Bilbo to open the curtains. "I've never been up this early before, and I never saw the sunrise," he said excitedly. His mind had all but forgotten about his terrifying ordeal the night before, even though it had taken its toll on his body. "I know my window isn't facing east, but maybe I could see a bit of it from here. Can you open the curtains?"

"Certainly, Frodo," Bilbo replied cheerfully. He was, of course exhausted himself, but had begun to feeling more optimistic now that Frodo had made through the night. "We were going to give you another sponge bath but that can wait, I'm sure." Dahlia nodded her head in agreement, pleased to see that Frodo was more aware of and interested in what was happening around him. When faced with this type illness, the patient's attitude was everything.

As Bilbo opened the curtains, he noticed a small spider's web in the corner of the window. The web's occupant froze for a minute, then quickly darted out of sight. _Thank goodness Frodo didn't see a giant spider last night too,_ Bilbo thought, shuttering at the memory of his own experience with them when an unexpected voice at the doorway suddenly cut into his private thoughts.

"Hamfast!" Bilbo exclaimed. "I certainly am glad to see you! Please, come in quickly."

"Thank you, Mr. Bilbo," the gardener replied as he entered, slightly bewildered by such an enthusiastic greeting. "I knocked a few times outside but didn't get no answer, so I let myself in."

Dahlia, who had just finished making some notes came over to join them. Bilbo was about to introduce them, but instead just smiled as he realized that they probably already knew each very well.

"So how's the boy?" Hamfast asked as he glanced over at Frodo who had just pulled all his blankets up to his neck. "He's doing as well as can be expected," Dahlia replied, "but he's had a bit of a trying night and he needs some medicine that I ran out of. Now that you're here, would you mind getting it for him?"

"Of course not, Miss Dahlia. What does he need?" Hamfast wanted to know. The healer produced a list of the necessary herbs and tinctures then explained where to get each of them. Frodo meanwhile, had wrapped the blankets tightly around himself. He temperature had gone up slightly, and he again felt himself becoming chilled. He knew he needed some ginger tea to warm him but that this wasn't time to ask for it. The adults were obviously busy discussing something important so he waited patiently, biting the corner of the pillow so the sound of his teeth chattering wouldn't be a distraction. Dahlia, when she had finished explaining everything turned to look at Frodo, and quickly became alarmed at what she saw.

"Frodo, are you right?" she asked, coming over to check his condition. Frodo didn't answer, however. Instead, his eyes rolled back into his head and his arm shot out involuntarily, knocking Dahlia back at least three feet. Instantly, his body began to shake and all four limbs thrashed wildly.

"So it begins," Dahlia said as calmly as possible. "Master Hamfast, help me get him on the floor to keep him falling out of bed." They each lifted two corners of the sheet Frodo was laying on and gently lowered him to the ground as he continued to thrash uncontrollably. Completely devastated, Bilbo turned away at that point, unable to watch for another second.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Here's the next installment, part 13/15. My appologies for the lateness, I hope it's worth waiting for.

Frodo's seizure lasted about five minutes. His body trashed uncontrollably, like a fish on a hook and his unseeing eyes seemed fixed to the ceiling. Worst of all, however was a low moan that escaped from his lips every few seconds as his body convulsed. It sent shivers through Bilbo's body and caused him to break into a cold sweat each time he heard it.

_I can't lose him,_ Bilbo thought, _he's all that matters to me_. Bilbo glanced over at him to see if he was any better, which he wasn't.

_This wouldn't have happened at Brandy Hall, _Bilbo realized as he agonized over this fact. _Perhaps Frodo would be better off there after all._

He would have had someone looking in on him every few minutes and there would have been enough medicine on hand to keep things from coming to this. On this other hand, the person taking care of Frodo might not have been the one he wanted for comfort and encouragement and even if it was, they wouldn't have had time to stay with him more than a few minutes. Which was more important? This was a hard question that he had no answer for. Bilbo then noticed the room became extremely quiet. He froze, feeling a sense of dread.

"Bilbo," Dahlia called, "Frodo is all right now, but brace yourself. What you see might be shocking to you." Bilbo took a deep breath and turned slowly. Frodo was laying on the floor, badly bruised from thrashing around and covered with sweat. Bilbo's heart nearly broke at the sight of this, but he forced himself to keep his composure and smile.

"Uncle Bilbo, are you there?" Frodo asked weakly.

This was too much for Bilbo. He dropped to knees, gathered Frodo up and hugged him like he would never let go. "Yes, Frodo, I'm here and I'm never going to leave you!" he told him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bilbo," Hamfast said. "I should've come earlier so I could've gotten the medicine and this wouldn't have happened."

"You had no way of knowing," Dahlia told him. "And even you did, it may have been too late to prevent this anyway."

"Well, I'll be off for it now so this don't happen again," the gardener said decisively.

When the medicine was given and his fever began to drop, Frodo quickly began to feel better, and he was the only one not happy about it. He tried to conceal this fact by asking for all the stories that he normally enjoyed and reacting appropriately to each event described in them. He also co-operated cheerfully with his treatment and ate as much as he could, which he knew would please his caregivers. This took a great of effort on his part, however and it wasn't long before the light that was beginning to return to his eyes faded again. Sensing this and wanting to avoid being questioned about it, he pretended to yawn and drift off to sleep. Dahlia looked with skepticism at Bilbo then went to the sitting room so they could talk alone.

"Frodo," Bilbo said gently, but got no response. "Frodo," he repeated more firmly, "I know you're awake; now open your eyes and tell me what's bothering you."

Frodo opened his eyes and sighed with resignation. "I never could fool you could I, Uncle Bilbo?" he asked.

"Frodo, why would you want to?" Bilbo asked. "You know that I love you and would do anything to help you, but I can't if I don't know what's wrong."

"I love you too, Uncle Bilbo, and Bag End and... well... isn't it time for my medicine again?" Bilbo gave Frodo his medicine but said nothing. "Well..." Frodo continued, sounding dejected when he realized Bilbo wasn't going to drop the subject. "I almost felt happy here."

"You _almost _felt happy?" Bilbo was intrigued when he heard that.

"Yes, just like I was with my parents, but now they're gone and it won't be right for me to me be happy anymore."

"Oh," Bilbo said slowly, beginning to understand at last. "So you think that getting on with your life and being happy again would be somehow disloyal to their memories."

"Yes, that's it exactly" Frodo cried, relieved that someone finally understood. "When they died, I didn't think I was ever going to be happy again, but I very nearly was here." He looked down sadly when he finished the last sentence.

"Well, Frodo let me asked you a few questions. If things were the other way around, your parents lost you but they were still here, how do think they would feel right now?"

"Pretty sad, I guess," Frodo admitted.

"Exactly. And would you want them to find healing and be happy again, instead staying sad for the rest of their lives?"

"Yes of course, but that's different," Frodo said, becoming impatient. "They could always have had another child to replace me, couldn't they?"

"Could they have had another child? Maybe and maybe not, but even if they had a large family it wouldn't have made losing you any less painful." Frodo looked confused when he heard that. "Look at it this way," Bilbo continued, "you had two parents. If you'd only lost one of them would your grief have been any less because you still had the other one?"

"I don't think so," Frodo admitted.

"I don't think so either," Bilbo told him. "Our loved ones are not interchangeable, Frodo. When we lose them, we lose part of ourselves. There's no getting around that, but we can grow stronger and yes we can still be happy. It's a most fitting tribute to their memories and undoubtedly what they would have wanted." There was wisdom in that, Frodo realized. "So do you think you could do that, Frodo?"

Frodo thought about this for a minute. "Yes," he said at last. "I'll try to be happy from now on."

"You don't have to try, Frodo, just let it happen like you did before. " Frodo nodded. "And remember," Bilbo continued, "It's all right to be sad sometimes and certainly to miss your parents. I miss mine sometimes even now, but it's all part of living."

Frodo considered this with understanding. That part of his life was over, but a new one was about to start. "Can I stay here with you, Uncle Bilbo?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm sure we can work something out," Bilbo replied.

There was a knock on the door at that moment and Dahlia entered with a cup in her hand. "How are you feeling, Frodo?" she asked as she sat next to his bed.

"Much better, thank you," Frodo replied. Indeed, he looked like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"I'm glad to hear that, but not surprised," Dahlia told him with a smile as she placed the cup on the table. "I have some medicine for you."

"Is it what I had the last time?" Frodo asked with interest.

"Yes, hawthorn berry, catnip, boneset, licorice root and of course, athelas. All these things will help protect you from complications and help you get better more quickly. I can mix your tincture with it if you like." Frodo nodded and Bilbo handed the bottle to Dahlia. "You must be getting pretty tried of taking this every half hour?" Dahlia commented as she mixed it. Bilbo and Frodo both agreed whole-heartedly. "Then you'll both be glad to know," she continued, "that it's been a full twenty-four hours since you started, which means you no longer need it every half hour. Every eight hours will be enough and you can mix it with this. So you can both get some well deserved rest."

Frodo thought he would be delighted when he was finally able to sleep undisturbed, but his exhaustion suddenly left him when he faced with prospect of being alone. "I expect you'll be going to bed soon, Uncle Bilbo?" he asked, hoping his voice sounded causal.

"Yes, Frodo, we all need our sleep," Bilbo told him. "But not necessarily alone," he added. "Would you like me to stay here with you?"

"Oh yes, would you?" Frodo asked hopefully.

"Certainly. Dahlia, would you help me bring in my mattress?"

As Frodo watched the mattress being brought into his room and listened a bits of the discussion, his eyes began to get heavy, and a minute later he was sleeping peacefully.


	14. Chapter 14

"Uncle Bilbo," Frodo asked when he woke up early the next morning, "did Miss Greenhill leave?"

"Yes, Frodo, she left yesterday evening just after you fell asleep," Bilbo replied. "But she'll still see you everyday until you get better," he added noticing Frodo seemed disappointed. "And even when you're not sick any more, you'll still see her around Hobbiton."

"Can we invite her over for tea?" Frodo asked hopefully.

"Of course we can," Bilbo told him. "And speaking of tea, your Uncle Saradoc and Aunt Esmeralda are coming over this afternoon, and they should be here just in time for afternoon tea."

"They're coming here? Why?" Frodo asked nervously.

"Why?" Bilbo asked, surprised. "Because they're concerned about, as is the rest of the family."

"Is that the only reason?" Frodo asked, still looking worried.

"Well, they're concerned about both of us. I would do anything for you, but I could certainly use some help around Bag End." Bilbo, seeing how anxious Frodo still looked took his hand and smiled gently. "Don't worry, lad. Everything is going to be all right, you'll see." Frodo managed to smile when he heard that. "So, how are you feeling now?" Bilbo asked. "Do you think you could eat something?"

"Better than yesterday," Frodo told him. "My throat still hurts, but I think I could eat soft food now without too much trouble."

"I'm glad to heard that," Bilbo said. "Your throat probably _**will** _be uncomfortable for at least another day or two, but the important thing is that it's getting better. I'll bring you scrambled eggs with apple sauce and pudding and of course, some healing tea with your tincture but fortunately you only need that three times a day now."

Frodo happily ate his breakfast while he and Bilbo talked about Hobbiton all the fun things they could do when he was well enough. They talked about Bilbo's library too and the interesting books Frodo would find there. Frodo was excited at first, but to his surprise, and frustration he quickly became sleepy again.

"Don't fight it, lad, just go to sleep if you're tired," Bilbo told him. "The more you sleep the better and everything will be here when you wake up." Frodo tried to object, but quickly realized it would get him nowhere, so he put his head down obediently and was sleep almost as soon he closed his eyes.

Saradoc and Esmeralda arrived later that afternoon, just as Bilbo was putting a pot of water on to make tea. While they waited for it to boil, Bilbo told about how Frodo had become sick early the day before and the things that had taken place since then.

"Frodo has scarlet fever? " Esmeralda gasped. "My goodness! Are you sure?"

An understandable question, Bilbo realized, given how shocking the news was. "Yes I _am _sure," he replied. "I suspected it from what I've read and his healer confirmed it. He had quite a time last night, I can assure you."

"You must have a had quite a time too, Bilbo," Saradoc pointed out. "When was the last you slept, or ate a proper meal?"

"I had second breakfast and a full lunch today while he was asleep," Bilbo said. "As for sleeping myself, I managed to get a few hours today, but I couldn't sleep last night because I had to give Frodo some medicine every half hour. Not that I would have been able to sleep much anyway, given the situation."

"Well, you don't have to worry now, Bilbo," Esmeralda told him. "We'll take care of everything. I'll start dinner now. Then could we see Frodo?"

"Yes, I think he'll be awake then," Bilbo replied, "but of course, he still needs as much rest as possible. It's a good thing he likes reading, that should make a bit easier to keep him in bed."

Frodo was sitting up looking out his window when they came in. In spite of his concerns earlier that day, he was glad to see Esmeralda and Saradoc again and was surprised and deeply moved by how glad they seemed about seeing him.

"Frodo, we were so worry about you!" Esmeralda told him. "We knew before we came that you were sick, but we didn't know it really serious."

"That's right," Saradoc added. "Bilbo told us about last night. It must have been horrible for you."

"Well... " Frodo seemed to reflect on this before he answered. "It wasn't easy, but it could have been worse. Uncle Bilbo was with me the whole time and he's been wonderful and of course my healer was here and she was wonderful too. It wasn't as if I had to go to through it alone. "

"Well then, it's a good thing you were here instead of back at Brandy Hall," Saradoc pointed out after an awkward pause. "And of course, you'll be staying here until you're fully healed at least." He and Esmeralda were visibly uncomfortable with Frodo's last sentence. There was no hint of accusation or resentment in his voice when he said it. Indeed, he didn't even seem aware of its implications, but the three adults certainly were.

"You must be hungry, Frodo," Esmeralda said, wanting to change the subject. "Are you? I can get you anything you want."

"Actually, yes I am," Frodo replied, sounding surprised by this fact. "I'll have anything soft, if it isn't too much trouble."

Esmeralda hurried into the kitchen to prepare something suitable for him. She returned about twenty minutes later with a tray piled high with steamed fruits and vegetables, boiled eggs and toast. She also brought him some healing tea with the tincture added to it, after being reminded in note that Bilbo had left in the kitchen.

Frodo offered to share the meal with his relatives, but they insisted it was for him and to everyone's surprise and relief, Frodo ate nearly everything he was given. "Thank you very much," he said when he was finished. "Would you like me to help take the dishes out?"

"No, Frodo, we want you to rest," Esmeralda told him quickly, "we'll take care of everything. That's why we came, to help you and Bilbo."

Frodo thought for a minute . "Then can I do something else?" he asked. "It doesn't have to be anything hard. Maybe I could go to your library, Uncle Bilbo?"

"No, Frodo, I want you to stay in bed until Miss Greenhill says you can get up," Bilbo replied firmly.

"In bed?" Frodo asked incredulously.

"Yes, Frodo, I know it's difficult, but we can't take any chances," Bilbo told him. "Don't you remember how sick you were last night?" Frodo looked surprised by this question and seemed to think seriously about it before he nodded.

"What did you want to read, Frodo?" Saradoc asked. "I'll get the books, whatever subject you want." After a bit more thought, Frodo mentioned he'd like to read some books about Elves. "Well, I'm sure Bilbo has plenty of those." Saradoc replied with a laugh as he went to look for them. Frodo's eyes lit up when they were brought in and he become even more animated as he shared with his family all the new things he learned while reading them. Frodo went to sleep about five hours later, after two more large meals and another dose of his medicine. His relatives were then left with the uncomfortable but necessary task of discussing what the future held for them and more important, for Frodo.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: ** Well here we are at the end of all things. Well actually not _all_ things, just this story and I have another one in progress now. I'd like thank everyone who read it, especially my reviewers. I'll review your stories when I get the chance. I'm not sure when exactly that's going to be. There's quite a bit going on my life right now, but that doesn't mean I'm not interested or that I'm not enjoying them. I'll try to set a time for that, and for finishing my WIP which I'll start posting when I have finished or very nearly. Thanks again everyone, and I hope you enjoy this last chapter as much as the others. :)

"So you want him to stay here, Bilbo?" Saradoc asked that evening in the sitting room. "Do you think that would work? You've lived alone for as long I can remember, and you're not exactly experienced with children."

"And how could it be good for Frodo? He wouldn't have anyone his age to talk to or do things with," Esmeralda pointed out anxiously.

"It's true, I don't have much actual experience," Bilbo admitted. "I'd have to rely on my instincts a lot, but then my instincts were what kept me alive on that... adventure." He whispered the last word with a twinkle in his eye.

"Raising a child is a different kind of adventure all together, Bilbo. You can't compare the two," Esmeralda reminded him.

"No, of course not," Bilbo replied more soberly. "Still, I wouldn't have to do it completely alone. People in this area are very supportive. I could talk to them if I needed advice. As for Frodo having friends of his own, I see my gardener's children quite often, so that won't be a problem I'm sure."

"Would they accept him as their friend?" Esmeralda's asked.

"Yes, most definitely," Bilbo told her without hesitation .

"Well, I suppose there's no harm in trying it for awhile," Saradoc concluded, "just to see how it goes." He and Esmeralda both looked uncertain, but open this possibility.

They had breakfast together in Frodo's room when he woke early the next morning. He was still uncomfortable because of his throat, but had quite an appetite and was more determined than ever to get up and dressed. There were a lot of things he wanted to see and do, both inside and out.

"No, Frodo. You heard what I said about that," Bilbo reminded him. "You have to stay in bed for now."

"But I don't _want _to stay in bed! I'm so bored!" Frodo protested.

"I am very sorry to hear that, but this is where you're staying," Bilbo replied firmly, crossing his arms. Frodo crossed his arms too and glared back at Bilbo.

There was a knock on the front door at that moment. Saradoc and Esmeralda, who were watching this exchange with growing concern, both sighed with relief.

"I'll get the door, Bilbo," Saradoc offered. "That must be his healer."

"And I'll make tea for everyone," Esmeralda added as they both made their way to the bedroom door, faster than was strictly necessary.

"Bilbo would have won that argument if it had gone any further than it did," Saradoc commented when they were both out the hall.

"True, but I don't know anyone else who could have," Esmeralda pointed out.

To everyone's relief, Dahlia told Frodo he could now get out of bed if he felt well enough. "But you still need rest, Frodo. Take it slowly at first, even if you think you can do more. And of course, you still have to take your medicine and I need to know about anything that doesn't seem right with your body," she reminded him.

"Don't worry, Miss Greenhill, Uncle Bilbo will make sure of all that. I can't keep a thing from him," Frodo exclaimed, winking at Bilbo who nodded in agreement. "And now I have my Uncle Saradoc and Aunt Esmeralda to keep an eye on me too. Can I go outside or have visitors, close to my age I mean?"

"You can go out in the garden, Frodo," Dahlia told him. "As for seeing other children, you should wait until the day after tomorrow." Frodo looked disappointed to hear that.

"Just to be absolutely sure they don't get sick too," she added.

"Don't worry, Frodo you won't be forgotten about," Bilbo assured him. "Mr. Gamgee told me that his children have been asking about you every day. And they made something for you." He handed Frodo a small package that he had brought in. When Frodo opened it, he found a card decorated with dried flowers and a box of his favourite cookies.

"They remembered how much I love these," Frodo said almost to himself, deeply touched, but not seeming too surprised. Saradoc and Esmeralda, on the other hand, were both touched and surprised by this gesture. Frodo promptly wrote a thank you letter, which he delivered himself on the fourth day. He and Bilbo went over for visit and he came back noticeably happier than he been since his parents' death.

"You look like you enjoyed yourself, Frodo," Esmeralda said casually when they got back.

"Oh yes, I had a wonderful time!" Frodo exclaimed. "In fact, I don't remember when I haven't had a good time here, except for the other day of course, when I got sick."

"Would you like to stay here, even after Uncle Saradoc and I leave?" she continued.

"Stay here always? Would you really let me?" Frodo asked, very surprised. He had wanted more than anything to stay at Bag End, but hadn't expected to be given a choice.

"We'd miss you at Brandy Hall," Saradoc pointed out, "but you seem to be happier here and Uncle Bilbo's happy with you which is all anyone wants for you."

"I know this is a very big decision," Bilbo added, "but you don't have make it right away. Think about it for as long as you need to and share with us any concerns you have. Or if it's just too much for you, we'll make the decision ourselves."

Frodo considered this for a minute, then his eyes lit up suddenly. "Why don't you stay here too?" he asked Esmeralda and Saradoc eagerly. "We could live here together, all four of us."

"That's a nice idea , Frodo, but we're needed at home," Esmeralda told him. "Still we'd come and visit you often, and you and Uncle Bilbo could visit us any time you wanted to."

"Any time?" Frodo smiled. That made the situation just fine, he could have the best of both worlds.

"But things would be different between us," Bilbo cautioned. "Up until now, I've been more your friend than an authority figure. If I became your guardian, that would have to change."

"I'd still be happy here with you, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo said cheerfully. Indeed, he couldn't imagine any place he would rather have been.

"Maybe we should try it for a few weeks and see how it goes?" Bilbo suggested, determined to be absolutely sure they were doing the right thing.

"Well Frodo, it's been a full month and no sign of complications," Dahlia told him. "If you don't develop any within the next week, you aren't going to, and the complications usually set in earlier than this anyway, so I'm not too worry about it. That's good news, isn't it?"

"Oh yes!" exclaimed Frodo. "And speaking of good news, I'm going to stay here at Bag End."

"Really? You're going to live here permanently?" Dahlia asked.

"Yes. Uncle Bilbo's going to adopt me," Frodo said excitedly

"That's wonderful. I'm very happy for both of you," she told them.

"And there's more good news," Bilbo added. "Mr. and Mrs. Gamgee had a new baby yesterday evening. His name's Samwise."

"It was a difficult delivery," Dahlia admitted, "but the little one is a real fighter. They expect great things from him."

"When can I meet him, Uncle Bilbo?" Frodo asked eagerly.

"Well, I was thinking of having a dinner party at end of next week," Bilbo said. "We'll invite Mr. and Mrs. Gamgee, and Saradoc and Esmeralda of course, and Miss Greenhill if she wants to come."

"That's very kind of you, Bilbo. I'd love to come," Dahlia replied.

"And little Samwise will come too?" asked Frodo, just wanting to be sure.

"He'll have to," said Bilbo with a laugh. " He's too small to be away from his mother for any length of time."

"That was an excellent dinner, Bilbo," Saradoc told him the next week at the party. "I can't remember the last time we ate like this at Brandy Hall."

"Very true, but then at Brandy Hall, we don't normally have three special occasions to celebrate," Esmeralda reminded him.

Given the fact that the hobbits were celebrating Frodo's complete recovery, his subsequent adoption and the birth of Samwise, Bilbo had decided to prepare three main courses. They then went into the sitting room to have their dessert in front of a large fire. Little Samwise lay fast asleep in large basket next to Bell Gamgee. Frodo's eyes wandered over to him and he smiled involuntarily.

"Would you like to hold Sam, Master Frodo?" his mother offered. "You seem to be quite taken with him."

"Hold him?" Frodo exclaimed. "Well I ... I don't know. He's so small. I don't think I ever held a baby this small before."

"Don't worry, Frodo, you won't break him," Dahlia said reassuringly. "He looks very delicate, but you'll do all right as long as you support his head carefully."

Bell carefully lifted Sam out of the basket and placed him in Frodo's arms when he reluctantly agreed. To Frodo's surprise, his natural nervousness slipped away in less than a minute and he smiled again at the sleeping baby.

"Dahlia tells me he had difficult birth," Bilbo commented.

"Yes, that he did," Hamfast confirmed. "He had a bit of a rough time, but he's all right now and we expect great things from him."

"Master Frodo's had a rough time too, hasn't he?" Bell added.

"That's right," Bilbo replied. "They already have something in common."

Sam meanwhile was beginning to wake up, so Frodo looked over at the adults to see if any of them wanted to take him. No one saw any immediate need to do so, however, so Frodo continued to hold him. "Hello, Sam," he said softly, stroking the little one's cheek with his finger. Sam opened his eyes and looked up at the new person holding him, then snuggled up to him contentedly.

"He likes you, Frodo," Esmeralda observed.

"He must know I like him too," Frodo said happily, giving Sam a gentle hug.

"I think we can expect great things from both of them," Bilbo concluded, to everyone's complete agreement.


End file.
